Better In Time
by blacknaive08
Summary: Rashel Jordan never knew that she would meet her soul mate, Quinn in a very  in opportune time. Quinn, on the other hand, sees this meeting as an opportunity to correct mistakes of the past.
1. Chapter 1 : THE MR QUINN

**CHAPTER 1: THE MR. QUINN**

It was November, the month of my birthday, when I first saw him. He has a beautiful rocking body and a mass of unruly hair. His face has a certain charm I could not put into words. He was effing hot and yummy, to simply say,

But it wasn't his gorgeousness that caught me speechless; it was his haunting crimson orbs. His eyes were an abyss of loneliness and hatred that I couldn't seem to reach.

"Hey Rash, how long are you gonna stand and ogle that new hottie, huh?" I was pulled out of my dreary daydream by the usual babble of my best friend, Jack.

Okay let me get this straight; Jack is a proud to-be-gay. He's cute, tall, and fashionable (not girly fashionable, though). He may be loquacious but he's my best buddy. And right now, his pink and black outfit totally outshines my simple grey and black ones.

"You know, Jack? I was simply staring, not ogling," I defended.

"If you say so, Rash," he teased and bumped his hip to mine.

The ringing of the bell got us rushing to our first class, which I may is a my favourite, Greek Mythology. It was simply an elective I chose out of sheer curiosity but the moment I stepped into Prof. Garm's class, I was captivated by her funny yet interesting lectures.

Today's lecture was about the vampire and witch ancestry: their origin and their myths.

_Vampires, huh? I never knew they originated from the Sumerians. Interesting…I thought they were from…-_

"…class, come in Mr. Quinn," Prof. Garm interrupted my thoughts.

As soon as THE Mr. Quinn came in the classroom, a lot of 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' erupted from many girls' mouths. In wonder of who this Mr. Knight may be, I looked away from the window to the new centre of attraction.

I was dumbfounded. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets as I saw HIM once again. He's the 'lonely' guy from earlier.

"Class, Mr. Quinn is an exchange student from our Alaska campus. And from now on, he'll be with you guys 'til the end of high school," Prof. Garm happily introduced the not-so-happy Quinn.

Quinn just gave a curt nod to the class and went straight to the seat Prof. pointed him to. His seat was right beside mine. And since this stupid school has designated only one table for two students, that means, Quinn will be my seatmate/tablemate for more than 8 months. UGH! Talk about uncomfortable.

"Ms. Rashel Jordan, I expect you to get Mr. Quinn well adapted to his new environment. Later today, please make sure that you tour him around the school and inform him of the school's regulations. Is that clear, Ms. Jordan?" Prof. Garm said, raising and eyebrow in question.

"Yes , Prof. Garm," was my immediate answer.

I sneaked a peek at my new seatmate. He's mysteriously handsome and serious. Dead serious. A thought suddenly came out of my head, _It would be nice if I could see him smile, even once._

The lecture went on and on. As I took notes, I kept glancing at Quinn. I couldn't help it, his mysterious vibes give me the creeps, especially those eyes. The moment I thought about his eyes, he turned and looked me straight in the eye. Crimson met silver. Cold met warm. The hair at the back of my neck stood as his penetrating gaze brought me chills. I could not turn away. We were locked into this death stare and thankfully, the bell rang. He got his things and walked away.

I could not move.

"Rash! Hey, earth to Rashel? You look like you've been bewitched or somethin'!" Jack said, shaking me out of my immobility.

I stood up and looked at Jack.

"Rash, you fine? Hey!" he shook me again.

"Yeah, fine. Just fine. Perfect," I answered him.

Jack and I were walking to our lockers when I saw him again. He was across the hall, in front of his own locker, looking at me. O, seriously! When will that staring stop?

I hastily stuck all my things inside my locker. And as a I walked away, I swear, I could feel his gaze at my back.

_What the hell?_

**A/N**

** So how was it? Is it worth reading?  
>I hope you guys, enjoyed my VERY FIRST story.<strong>

** Stay updated for new chapters!**

**CIAO! **

**-blacknaive08**


	2. Chapter 2 : OUR PAST

**CHAPTER 2: OUR STORY**

Quinn POV:

She came out of the room and I instantly caught the deep silver of her eyes. Her big round orbs spoke of happiness and contentment. Her face is a shining inspiration in this wretched world.

In my 18 years of existence, I've never met anyone as beautiful and as happy as she. _If I could just meet her and know her name…_

"Rose!" I heard her friend her call her.

_Ah, Rose. My beautiful Rose. Now that I know her name, what do I do next? Stalk her and scare her to death just like I did with…_

"Rose! Happy Birthday!"

"Happy Birthday Rose!"

"Rose! I'm so glad! Happy Birthday!" my thoughts were interrupted by a tirade of greetings from Rose's friends.

_She's really popular here._

My blushing Rose thanked and hugged then shyly. WAIT, did I just say, MY Rose? All right, scratch that; it was supposed to be THE. All right?

So it was Rose's birthday. November 13. A Friday. Bad luck as old belief says. But with her beauty and grace, bad luck would surely avoid her.

I followed her until she got to her bug. Her chauffeur bowed curtly as he took her bag and opened the door for her. Rose gracefully entered the bug and closed the door. Just before her car drove on, I saw her face change from delighted to agonized. Why would she have such an expression when it's her birthday?

I silently ran after her car. When they reached Rose's home (or should I say mansion) the first thing I noticed were the two enormous crosses situated at their garden. RIP was written on each one. _Who could that grave belong to?_ Rose entered the mansion and I waited under the fig tree near the garden.

It was near dusk when I saw her come out of the house and go to the garden. In her arms were two bouquets of irises. She laid it on the foot of each cross and started to cry. It was just soft sobs at first but it soon grew to whimpers and loud gasps of air. Her head was bent and she was hugging an antique looking book to her chest. I tiptoed behind her and looked at the names on the tombstones. James Rasmussen and Poppy North Rasmussen. Died November 13, 1920. I gasped as I came to realize that her parents died on her birthday, six years ago. I felt horrible.

Oblivious to my actions, I put my arm around her shoulder and comforted her. She stifled a shriek and backed away from me.

"Wh-Why are you here?" she said between sobs.

"I'm so sorry…I was just walking by and I saw you crying. I couldn't help it; I just felt that you needed someone here." I reasoned.

"Oh..okay," she said, easily believing my lame excuse and walked to stand beside me.

As she was wiping her eyes with trembling hands, I guided her to sit on the grass next to her parents' graves. I patted her back as she calmed her self down.

"Are you all right now?" I asked.

"I'm fine. I just didn't expect you to be here so suddenly," she answered shyly.

"Yes, I'm sorry barging I without permission."

"Oh, it's quite fine. I guess you came just in the nick of time."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"If you hadn't come, I would've fainted again. It's kind of funny right? Whenever I bawl my eyes out, I always find myself fainting," she said laughing lightly.

"NO. IT IS NOT FUNNY," I argued.

"Hey, hey, calm down, I just faint for like two or three minutes and wake up right away. No harm," she laughed shakily.

I didn't answer back because I was so mesmerized by her smile. Her beauty. I just stared at her like the moron I am.

"Hey, why don't you come in for supper?" she said.

"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes. We do not have any guests today, so you should do. It's my birthday today. It'd be sad if I have no one to celebrate it with, right?"

"It's your birthday. Well, Happy Birthday, Rose," I greeted her and brought her hand to my lips.

She blushed a deep red and murmured a small thank you. She then guided me to their huge dining room filled with exquisite looking food.

"Why don't you have a seat… um…Mr...Quinn. Am I right?" she asked.

"Yes. Mr. Quinn is quite right. Why don't you just call me John, since I call you Rose?" I beamed at her.

_She remembered my name!_

She blushed yet again but waited for me to sit first before taking hers beside mine.

We ate and talked for so long that I almost didn't notice how late it was already. Her butler excused himself and told Rose that it was half past eight and her guest (which was me), needed to head home already.

"I am so sorry to have kept you for so long, John," she said.

"It's all right, Rose. I had a good time chatting with you," I answered with a smile.

"Well then, I bid you a good night. May you head back home safely," she curtsied.

"Happy Birthday once again, Rose. And a pleasant night to you, too," I kissed her hand for the last time and took my leave.

Her butler sent me to the door and bid a courteous goodbye. And I was alone, walking on the dark road.

Our long talk taught me many things about her. Her parents died on her 10th birthday as they were on their way to buy Rose a new dress she forced them to give her. They were on their car and his father was scolding her for being such a spoiled kid. Her mother, who was at the front seat told Mr. Rasmussen to calm down and just focus on driving. Mr. Rasmussen didn't listen to his wife and their car hit a truck racing across the intersection. Rose was lucky she was sitting at the back and received only minor injuries; but her parents weren't lucky enough to survive the horrifying accident.

Because of the accident, se became an orphan. The mansion and her parents' fortune were transferred to her hands and now she feels guilty for causing her parents' death. I tried disagreeing with her but she stood her place and moved to another topic.

I also learned about her talent in music. She sings and plays a lot of instruments. I was amazed and asked her to sing for me but she refuse, saying that I should be the one to sing to her since it's her birthday. I sang a short song for her and to my utter surprise, she burst into applause. I blushed and thanked her.

We talked about many things after that; her love of reading books, writing poetry, and caring for animals. How she got herself involved in a local charity because of her hobbies were out of the question.

I was reminiscing her smiles and laughter when I heard the piercing howl of a wolf. I was immediately pulled out my happy place and I ran, ran for my dear life.


End file.
